A Leader's Downfall
by Gothika Faerie
Summary: Stretch becomes weak and despondent an estranged relative decides to stay.
1. The Terrible Letter

Title: A Leader's Downfall

Summary: Shadow's an estranged relative who drops by to 'afterlive' in Whipstaff. Stretch immediately disintegrates with his presence. Will Casper and company be able to drag him out of his despondence before Shadow has a chance to plot his revenge?

Genre: Thriller/Suspense

Rated: T for swearing and violence

A/N: I know you all probably hate me for deleting most of my stories but I'll make it up to you with this story.

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Chapter 1

The Terrible Letter

"Will you guys quit your freaking swordplay already?!" Kat fairly screamed with rage. She was busy cramming for a huge Bio quiz and was not in the mood to entertain any disturbance. Unfortunately, the Ghostly Trio weren't taking the hint. They deliberately decided to have a jousting tournament in her room. And Kat swore that if she heard the words 'Touché' or 'On Guard' again, she'll destroy something. Sometimes she wondered why she put up with these loons. They weren't kind or friendly to her. Heck, they took pleasure in tormenting her. Especially their sadistic leader, Stretch. And honestly, Stretch and Kat's relationship hadn't improved a bit after the whole Halloween party. He was still as cold and aloof to her as he had first been. And now he was seriously testing the limitations of her patience. He threateningly pointed his sword at her and sneered.

"Do youse know whose roof you're living under?" He asked, challenging her. Kat sulked and crossed her arms. She hated playing games with him about his rightful ownership of the manor. When she bitterly answered, he smirked. "And don't you forget it." He warned her before ordering his troops to leave the 'fair maiden' to her work. Kat sighed in frustration. She threw up her hands. "Why, even if it's for one day, can't you be nice to me?" She shouted questioningly at the leaving ghost. Stretch halted; He was scowling deeply. "Cause you're just a worthless bone bag." He replied in a dangerously low voice. Kat's eyes widened; she was expecting maybe a good chewing off or an injury by that hazardous piece of armory he was wielding. Despite that, she was royally pissed now.

"And you're just an uncouth, uncaring and pompous ectoplasmic creep!" She shouted uncaringly. It was about time she finally exploded. She'd been allowing all her anger for him to simmer in her synapses but now's the time to unleash it. Stretch defiantly glared at her. "Dare say that again, you little…" He was cut off in mid-sentence when Casper presented him with a letter. Stretch eyed it skeptically. The Ghostly Trio or the Harveys rarely receive any letters. The letter was crinkled and dog-eared. Stretch flinched when he saw a letter 'S' scrawled on in what seemed to be human blood. He sliced the top open with his sword and hastily scanned through the crisp, clean paper which contained only two words and a fancy signature.

_I'm back_

_-Walter McFadden/Shadow._

Stretch lowered the paper from his violet eyes. His pupils were now dilated and undecipherable. His mouth hung open. He allowed the sword to slowly slip from his weakened grasp. His grip tightened around the letter as though he wanted to rip it to shreds. Stinkie and Fatso huddled around him for questions. Stinkie touched his brother's stiffened shoulder. "Stretch, what'sa matter?" Fatso joined in. "Yeah, bro. What's on the letter?" Stretch stuck it out to them before balling his fists and keeping gaze to the floor. "Read it then rip it into pieces. Or better yet after ripping it, throw it in the fireplace. I don't ever wanna see that piece of crap." He ordered solemnly. After shooting inquiring glances at Stretch, Stinkie and Fatso skimmed through the letter. After doing so, they followed his orders. Stinkie even piled on more coal into the fireplace before signaling Fatso, who'd shredded the letter, into hurling the vile thing into it. Kat and Casper watched all this with quizzical expressions. What's going on?

Stretch looked more despondent than he ever was. Which is never. Angry, definitely. Happy, in a demented sort of way. But sad or despaired, never. He was bent over pitifully, letting out tears of controlled frustration. "Why now? Why is he coming back?" Stinkie patted his brother on the back consolingly. Kat couldn't contain herself much longer. "OK, What's going on?!" She questioned; she wanted answers. Now. Stretch exhaled deeply before turning to Kat, his head still bent. "Listen, Kitty Kat. This ain't nothin' for youse or Bulbhead to know. In fact, it's the direct opposite." He flopped down on Kat's bed. He buried his face in his hands. Kat could actually hear him say repeatedly 'Why? Why? Not now. Please not now.' Kat stood and, surprisingly, placed a hand on Stretch's shoulder.

"Sometimes, it helps to reveal secrets." Stretch looked up, his eyes moist and reddened with noiseless weeping. "Trust me; it's probably the most terrible thing you've ever heard." Kat was adamant, however. She was longing to know the secret. Casper had the same determined look as Kat had.

"Listen Uncle Stretch, you can trust us. We won't tell Dr. Harvey. Heck, he's going to be out of town for a year due to that sabbatical on Psychology he's attending. You can talk to us. First things first, who's Shadow and why does he have your last name?" He asked politely yet firmly. Stretch sighed; he knew he was licked.

"Alright. Casper, Shadow is one of your father's brothers next to me and Fatso. So, technically, he's one of your uncles as well." And at that point, Casper's afterlife changed forever.


	2. Shadow's Story

A/N: To answer Spiritto's question, I am continuing this story.

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Chapter 2

Shadow's Story

"What are you talking about?! I had another uncle?!" Casper was aghast beyond his wildest dreams. All throughout his life and afterlife, he'd never dream of having four uncles. Three were terrible enough. He didn't need another torturer to crack the whip. Yet, he was curious about this surprising piece of news. After spilling about Shadow, Stretch's face held the coldest expression ever imagined.

"More like _ex_-uncle," He spat, his tone embittered. "Stupid traitorous, backstabbing, suck-upping idiot!" He was now seething with fury, hands gripping the armrests of the chair he was sitting in forcefully. Stinkie's expression was generally the same. Except he had his arms folded across his chest and his head bowed. "Why the hell is that double-crosser crawling back? He doesn't deserve to." Fatso also had some trash-talk to contribute. "Wished that guy just headed for Hell when he got executed." Casper could tell that his Uncle Walter or Shadow, as his alias stated, wasn't as horrible as his uncles. He seemed worse. He was probably so terrible; they banished him from the McFadden tribe forever. Casper sighed; were all his uncles corrupted? Kat looked flabbergasted and confused all in one. She yearned to learn more.

"He got executed. Why? Start from the beginning," She spoke hurriedly to stop Stretch from cutting in. The leader just shrugged and decided that they should know about the scourge of Whipstaff Manor. He settled back into his armchair, inhaled deeply and began:

"Your uncle Shadow was the eldest of the family. Yup, you heard right. I ain't the eldest after all. Since he left before you were born, Short Sheet, we didn't want you to know you're uncle was a thieving, scheming ingrate." Casper's eyes widened at this recount. Shadow was the oldest? What a revelation! Still, there was more to come. "Looking back, when we were kids, your uncles and your dad had a pretty okay relationship with Shadow. We did all the things all nasty scamps our age did: pick on dames, wrestling, playing pranks on unsuspecting people. It was the time of our lives." Stinkie sighed at the nearly-forgotten memories. "Those were the days." Fatso, however, frowned and seriously said, "But things didn't stay sunny and bright for that long."

Stretch's eyes flamed in agreement with Fatso's remark. "Chubby-chub's over there's right. Things went downhill when we reached adolescent age. You see, Shadow had a competitive edge; a jealous streak hidden within him. He was even worse than me. And he was usually irritated by my accomplishments. Not to brag, but I was top in class, captain of the baseball team _twice _and the best-looking one." Stretch reflected, brimming with smugness. Kat had to admit that she believed him. Stretch was inevitably the most intelligent one of the Ghostly Trio. He _could_ fling strikes easily with his flexibility and strength. And he _was_ quite charming. In an annoying, bad boy way. Stretch's pride shadowed over when he resumed narrating. "Shadow was sick of it, I could tell. For every day, it would be the same thing: 'Walter, did you know Arthur got all A's again', 'Walter, Arthur made captain of the baseball team again. Why can't you be captain of anything' and even 'Walter, Arthur's a year younger than you and he's very much accomplished. Isn't that shameful?' So, Shadow began detesting me. I thought it was just a passing phase. Boy, did I miss when I tried to hit the nail."

Somehow, Kat drifted away when Stretch revealed his name. In a way, he was exposing various bits of his past that her dad had been trying to pry from his cold dead lips for ages. What a turnaround! She decided to probe a little deeper. "Your name's Arthur?" She inquired casually. Stretch shrugged; even though he hated talking about the past, he hadn't any energy to tell Kat off for poking her nose in other's business.

"Yup. That's my name. Stinkie's name's Stewart. Fatso's name's Carlos. Anyway back to the sordid tale, Shadow began tormenting me. First, in little harmless yet humiliating ways like making me drop fragile stuff or banging into me accidentally-on-purpose. Then, it grew worse. He began doing injuring things such as pushing me down the stairs purposefully, picking fights with me at school and trying to frame for things he'd done. Shadow was a slippery little weasel; he loved nicking wallets and burying them under my pillow or in my backpack. It's a good thing your uncles and dad came to me rescue or I'd been seeing stars. And if you'd think our relationship was declining in our teen years; in our adulthood, it was virtually non-existent." He stopped for breath. Casper looked despondent and displeased. His oldest newfound uncle a pickpocket? Not a good sign. Ever. Stretch looked at Kat and meaningfully.

"Listen, I ain't too happy about remembering this bit. But I'll tell you. When we were full grown men, I was, admittedly more of the ladies man. Shadow looks like me. Heck, most people think we're born twins. But Shadow wore these black-rimmed glasses, is a foot shorter than me and has forest green eyes. So, naturally, all the ladies liked me better. Especially Angela Whittier," At that point, he smiled fondly. "Ah, Angela. Never had been a more beautiful or kinder soul. She was crazy 'bout me. Unfortunately, Shadow was crazy 'bout her. However, after seeing about how badly Shadow treats me, she avoided him like the Black Death. Shadow tried to court her with all his heart. But, she'd rather have me. Not wanting to hurt Shadow, I met her secretly everyday. Then, he found us kissing at the church stairs. He went nuts, totally. He dragged me away from her and brandished a dagger in my face. He actually threatened to kill me!!" Stretch sounded panicked at this point. Kat was aghast; is that how he died?

"I know what you're thinking but no, I didn't die for at that moment J. T. came along and grabbed Shadow's hand. A struggle ensued. We were punching, kicking, swearing. Everything was a terribly overwhelming blur. I could only remember my nose bleeding like Niagra Falls, my eye throbbing and J. T hollering. The fight never did end well. Fights never end well. You see, the knife was in Shadow's hand. J. T was wrestling him like an anaconda. And…" Stretch trailed off, unwilling to continue. Casper looked anxious. He didn't want the story to end on a cliffhanger now. Especially, when it was at its most suspenseful moment. "What happened?" He asked, nearly whispering. Stretch looked tearfully into Casper's aquamarine eyes. Then came the words that disintegrated Casper's soul or what's left of it now.

"Your dad got stabbed. Right in the heart by Shadow. It was an accident but it was incriminating enough to pass off as the perfect murder. Your dad was there, clutching his bleeding heart. I swear his shirt was so red; he looked like he was serving as an abattoir. Shadow was gaping at me, shocked and fearful. He was still holding onto the dagger which was stained with J. T's blood. I just sat rock still, mouth wide open. All I was doing was praying; please don't let my brother's blood leak away because he needed it. After a while, Shadow snapped out of his traumatized trance and pointed the knife at me. Would you believe the scoundrel threatened that next time the knife would be in my heart?!!" Stretch's hands balled into fists. He clearly wasn't pleased with Shadow's conduct in the least.

"With that, your cowardly uncle bolted. I solemnly called the ambulance who escorted J. T to the morgue. I never forgave myself for letting J. T take that. After the funeral, I promised your depressed mother to never tell you about Shadow, Bulb Head. She said you didn't deserve to know about your rat fink uncle. Well, I guess I broke that promise now but it's for a good cause. So now you know about Shadow." With that, he shot an anxious yet angry glare at the entrance. Kat could see he was definitely expecting Casper's 'rat fink uncle'. She had a disgusted scowl on her face. "I hate him already."

Casper had two perfect streaks of tears running down his semi-transparent cheek. Shadow killed his father? He didn't want to believe it but currently, he just had to. He furiously wiped the tears away. His despondence changed into rage. "I don't want him in this house or in my afterlife," He declared, arms folded. Stretch smirked at that. "You and me both Bulb Head but what choice do we have? Shadow's visit is pretty much inevitable." Speaking of the devil, the doorbell jingled. Stinkie and Fatso grimaced. Kat frowned. Casper wore a sour expression. Stretch sighed, squared his shoulders and floated to the door.

"Let the family reunion commence," He proclaimed sarcastically as he opened the door.

What Casper and Kat saw was practically the most astounding ever!

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A/N: What is this astounding thing? Find out in the next chapter of 'A Leader's Downfall'.


	3. Shadow's Staying & Shady Business

A/N: Well, Chapter 3's starting up. But first, do you believe in doppelgangers?

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Chapter 3

Shadow's Staying &Shady Business

Have you ever heard of the Twilight Zone? It's an after reality 'place' where a managerie of dreamscapes and nightmares come about. A most common hallucination in the Twilight Zone is seeing double. And right about now, Kat and Casper totally felt that they were in the Zone. For, and they had to admit, Stretch didn't at all exaggerate about how alike he and Shadow looked. If it weren't for Shadow's black-rimmed glasses, forest green eyes and unaccented voice, they really could've been twins. Shadow shared the same facial features, trademark smirk and body shape. In fact he was leaning against the door frame with the same Stretch-like confidence and mellowness. He had his hands clasped behind his back and a self-assured smirk on his face. Stretch didn't seem the least bit impressed or intimidated at the prospect of his long-gone 'twin'. Kat and Casper were still basking in the shock of the moment.

"Casper, are we in the Twilight Zone?" She asked, her gaze still fixed.

" If you're still seeing what we're seeing; I'd say we aren't," he answered. He was completely awestruck of his uncle but he then remembered what his uncle did. Anger instantly overshadowed the young ghost's childlike amazement. He narrowed his eyes at his uncle's over-confident countenance. Shadow hardly seemed to care. He just seemed to be particularly interested in Stretch. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of silence, Stretch spoke. "Welcome back, Shadow." He muttered dryly. Stinkie waved half-heartedly while Fatso blatantly ignored the ghost. Shadow put on an expression of mock disappointment.

"Is that the kind of welcoming greeting I'm supposed to get? Really, Stretch, I'm totally disappointed. You could do better, being _you_ and all," Stretch scrutinized Shadow's face. He noticed that, even though he was smirking, Shadow beheld a stony glare in his eyes. Despite, the exceedingly long separation, Shadow still seemed pretty infuriated by Stretch's status as 'Perfect Overachiever'. He reached forward for a way too-tight handshake. Kat could sense the lingering electricity in their gaze when their eyes met. It had enough volts to power 10 substations! Clearly, they weren't ready to forgive and forget.

"What you doing, coming back here?" Stretch inquired stiffly, hands balled. Shadow looked surprised but didn't bat an eyelid. "Can't a ghost visit his _younger _brothers anymore?" he asked back, enunciating every syllable in the word 'younger'. Stinkie felt perfectly disgusted. Shadow was now rubbing in about how he was the eldest now. It was nauseating. Stretch clenched his jaw muscles tightly. He watched Shadow's eyes survey the entire room. He approached Stinkie who, wisely, backed away a couple of inches.

"So Stinkie, I can see that _somebody _decided to not get braces. And now he has to suffer an eternal overbite. What a shame," Shadow remarked, pretending to look apologetic. Kat snorted. What a faking flake! Stinkie's golden eyes clouded with rage but he calmly. "We didn't have big bucks back then, _Shadow_," He wasn't happy that his scoundrel brother had noticed that particularly sensitive detail. Stinkie was very vulnerable when it came to his massive overbite. But, Shadow wasn't finished with his psychological taunting just yet. "And I'm guessing is more than just a passing nickname. It really fits you, _Stinkie_." He shot the big cannon all right; Stinkie deflated like a leaky balloon. But he managed to yell, "I was hydrophobic, you nimrod! Ever since I nearly drowned back on my 6th birthday which _you_ didn't even try to save me." Shadow rolled his eyes.

"Forgive me for not learning to swim. Unlike our _dear_ brother Stretch here," he reminded in that mock happy tone of his. Kat snorted. She was getting sick of Shadow's fake, put-on joy of reuniting with the McFadden brood. What was he after here anyway? Shadow's eyes scanned the perimeter. They stopped when they reached Fatso's fiery yellow ones. The corpulent ghost was attempting to ignore his sly, over-confident brother. Fat chance of that happening. Shadow had both barrels held up for heart-wrenching criticism.

"So, Fatso, still carrying all that extra weight, eh? I thought our _dear_ and _talented_ brother Stretch would have worked off all that flab of you. Especially since that time you were wheeled off to the hospital for high blood pressure. How terrible that must have been!" With a false gesture, he clutched at his heart. Fatso looked about ready to pound Shadow into a microscopic pulp. But Shadow's attention was soon averted to Casper's brilliant blue eyes. He grinned from ear to ear. Casper shuddered. When Shadow smiled, you were reminded of a feral lion baring its razor-sharp teeth. Shadow touched Casper's face, observing from all angles. He looked to be appraising Casper. Or was secretly fuming that he never had a chance to bring the sweet, young lad? With an all-mouth but no-eye smile, Shadow spoke. "What a charming lad you are. I must say Stretch really did good." Stretch went livid. His patience for Shadow's subtle taunting was detoriating right before everybody's eyes. And it was going to be non-existent very, very soon. For at that moment, Shadow noticed Kat. He immediately floated to her, taking her hand as a romantic gesture.

"Why, hello there," Kat flinched when the ghost's cold lips touched her hand. She felt like smacking all the way from here to Kingdom Come. But she controlled herself. Shadow's eyes beheld a trail of lust. Stretch's fists clenched tighter. Angela was bad enough. But Kitty-Kat?! No. Way. "How'd these knuckleheads wind up with a catch like you?" Stretch, at that point, grabbed up an umbrella and was about to knock Shadow's eyes out. Luckily, Stinkie and Fatso restrained him. "I'd _love_ to get to know you better." Shadow's smirk turned lascivious. Kat winced, disgusted. At that point, Stretch ripped Shadow away from Kat angrily. However, Shadow didn't seem the least bit miffed.

"Listen, Shadow, you'd better tell me what you doing here or else!" When Stretch threatened, you'd better be afraid. Shadow, however, just yawned with aloofness. "Alright brother, I'll tell you. I'm permanently residing in Whipstaff." That single sentence alone caused mouths to drop, eyes to bulge and gasps to be heard. Shadow simply crossed his arms at the scene. "You…living…Whipstaff…what?!!!" Stretch inquired, puzzled and hoping whatever Shadow had said was false. Sadly, it wasn't. Shadow whipped out a piece of parchment out of nowhere and handed it to Stretch. It was a will. But not just any will. It was the Casper's grandfather's will!

"Paragraph 2, line 23 clearly states that _all_ brothers are entitled a share of Whipstaff manor. After countless years of unearthing that will, I'm finally here to get my share," Shadow announced triumphantly. Casper gaped. Was Shadow seriously going to 'afterlive' here? Forever? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BAD! BAD! TERRIBLE! HIT THE DECKS!! But the defeated look on Stretch's face said it all. Still brimming with victory, Shadow patted Stretch on the back. "I'll just float up to my room on my own, brother." When he left, Stretch allowed the paper to slip ever so slowly to the floor.

"That sneak's not really going to live here? Is he?" Stinkie asked Stretch, grabbing his brother's shoulders. Fatso joined in. "Yeah, please say it ain't so, man." Now both of them were shaking him roughly like a rag doll. But all Stretch did was concentrate his gaze on the floor. To meet Shadow was bad enough. But to live with him under one roof was total torture. So, now the walls start tumbling down. "Just go to bed, you all. Please," he pleaded. Giving up, Casper and his uncles levitated to their respective bedchambers. Kat however, stayed rooted to the ground stubbornly. Stretch frowned at her.

"You deaf or stubborn?" He asked softly but with a touch of acid. Kat didn't react. She just stared. But a question flew out of her lips.

"What really happened with Angela? Did Shadow…rape her?" She dared to let the second question slip out. Stretch, instead of flying into a rage when Kat asked, just sighed and answered. "Yup, he did. That was another reason why Angela preferred me. Shadow couldn't keep his hands to himself. I once even defended her from that letch. He nearly got to her. I guess that was another reason why he thoroughly hated me." He chuckled at that memory. He soon turned serious again. "Listen Kitty-Kat. There's something I wanna give you." He flew to a drawer and scrounged through its contents. He fished out a reed-thin silver whistle on a chain. He handed the delicate tube to her.

"What's it for?" She breathed in awe at the spectacular gift. "It's to alert anyone of us if Shadow's getting to close for comfort with you. One blow on that beauty and either me or the others will come to your aid. Now, why don't you hustle up to bed? Don't worry 'bout me. I'll be down here, drowning my sorrows." With that, Kat went up the stairs. She was absolutely surprised by Stretch's sudden sensitivity for her safety. And she was eternally grateful for it. She definitely didn't want Shadow trying to impregnate her.

Yet that wasn't the only thing on Shadow's mind. Not at all. For in the safety and security in his new soundproof bedroom, he pressed a hidden button on his specs. A mini-microphone popped out at the bottom, positioning it under his chin. He activated it.

"Come in, Hunts. Shadow here. Phase 1 completed. I've infiltrated the base. Don't worry; in a couple of weeks, you'll get the ghost you've been dying to get your hands on for centuries. Just let me get my revenge on the unsuspecting dweeb first. Then, I'll wire you the perfect timing for assassinating Whipstaff. And remember Hunts, you can't capture this ghost if it weren't for another ghost now, would you?" And laughing maniacally, he signed off.

Things weren't looking up for the McFadden and Harvey household.

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A/N: What shady business is Shadow up to? That will be in later chapters. For now, r/r please.


	4. Morning Sickness

A/N: Well, Chapter 4's up now! And you will learn why Stretch prefers berry syrup to maple syrup. And that Shadow is a complete lying jerk.

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Chapter 4

Morning Sickness

Breakfast was surprisingly civil the next day. And _un_surprisingly intense. Civil in the sense that there was no horsing around, humongous food fights or uncivilized gobbling of food. Yet, intense in the sense that everybody was shooting death glares at Shadow all the way. Casper wished he hadn't reluctantly gotten out of bed in the morning. If he hadn't, Stretch wouldn't be writhing in agony, suffering the mother of all gut-wrenching nausea. Casper was just listlessly floating down the stairs when he spotted Shadow sitting at the table, reading the headlines of the Morning Express. Casper hesitated. He, not in a million years, wanted to see his traitor uncle. He didn't want to meet his traitor uncle. He mostly didn't want to, god forbid, have a conversation with his traitor uncle. However, given the circumstances of hungry people, he really didn't have a choice now. He carefully approached the lanky ghost who immediately greeted him with a bright smile.

"Why, if it ain't little Casper," Shadow commented. Casper noted that despite Shadow's wide grin, his eyes seemed to hold veiled hostility. The supposedly teenage ghost pretended not to take the hint. He nonchalantly busied himself with yanking a pancake griddle, a waffle iron and a juicer out of the cupboard. He was planning on Belgian waffles, pancakes and orange juice for breakfast today. While mixing together the waffle/pancake batter, Casper was noticeably aware that Shadow's piercing green eyes were locked on him. Like the target-setting of a machine gun. He shuddered at the thought. He prayed silently that his creepy, possibly-deranged uncle would stop staring so ominously. Yet still, Shadow's eyes were locked onto the back of Casper's head like radar.

"Raspberry syrup," The green-eyed ghost piped up. Casper spun around, puzzled at his uncle's sudden outburst. Shadow laughed loudly at his nephew's bewildered expression. Casper just stared disbelievingly. He hoped his uncle wasn't going to go all deluded on him. "Don't you get it, my little champ? Don't you know that your uncle Stretch is terribly _allergic_ to maple syrup?" Casper cringed at Shadow calling him 'little champ' but focused on the words 'terribly allergic'. Sure, he was conscious of Stretch's special dietary needs. Besides, who wanted to clean up Stretch's ghost puke after the allergic reaction takes place? After giving the kitchen cabinets a thorough inspection, Shadow's suspicions proved right. There wasn't an ounce of rich, sweet raspberry syrup anyway. Casper thought hard; he was sure he purchased a squeeze bottle of raspberry syrup last night. Maybe a certain _somebody_ purposefully misplaced it. Casper surveyed Shadow suspiciously. Hell, the ghost was so dripping with 'innocence'; he could have had a glowing halo floating above his head.

"I'm going out to get the syrup. Could you please help me put the pancakes, waffles and juice on the plates when they're done?" Casper asked politely. With Shadow, you have to be verbally careful. Shadow's tongue was plain acidic. Shadow floated of his chair at this proposition. "Why don't _I_ go pick up some syrup? It's no trouble at all." He proposed, hope glimmering in his eyes. Casper stared at him skeptically. Could he trust this ghost? The ghost who, in so many sadistic ways, tried to harm, even _kill_ Stretch? The ghost who MURDERED his father? Shadow must have mind-reading powers or something for he took Casper's hands and looked deeply into the young ghost's eyes.

"Listen kid, I know I did some pretty terrible things in the past but I've changed. Trust me," Shadow spoke gently. Casper noticed that there was some thinly-covered impatience and anger in his uncle's eyes. The older ghost's grip on Casper's hands also consciously tightened. Not wanting his known-to-be-dangerous uncle to go postal on him, Casper immediately relented. Shadow was soon off like a bolt of lightning. Casper wondered if he did probably the most stupid thing in his afterlife. But he didn't have much time to regret his folly for at that moment, the occupants of Whipstaff descended down to the breakfast table. Stretch was probably he most morose of the group. Stinkie patted his elder brother's shoulder reassuringly.

"Don't think too much of Shadow living here, Stretch," This gentle irony didn't really help, however. "Sure, it'd be a chore but afterlife goes on. By the way, where is the little jerk now?" Stinkie finally realized Shadow was nowhere to be seen. Casper gulped; he was so going to regret this.

"Shadow went out to get berry syrup for Stretch," Stretch snorted distastefully at the thought his so-called brother would even consider helping him. "Seriously?" Casper meekly nodded. Stretch sighed exasperatedly. But, honestly, he hadn't any energy to lecture Casper on believing that wolf-in-sheep's-clothing. After last night, he hadn't any energy to do anything. All he really wanted was to mope around, nestling a half-empty bottle of sherry. But he did have to eat. A couple minutes later, Shadow returned. A pitcher filled to the brim with something that looked like raspberry syrup was in his semi-transparent hand.

"Good morning, ya'll!" He yelled at the top of his lungs. Kat sneered. What a big phony! Shadow settled the raspberry syrup on top of a cork coaster before plopping down next to Kat. The teenage girl wasn't happy with the arrangement. The Ghostly Trio eyed the porcelain pitcher suspiciously. With someone like Shadow, you had to be extra-completely; positively cautious with whatever he gave you. Shadow watched them with a seemingly innocent smirk on his face. What Stretch would do to wipe it off his face. However, the gooey, semi-solid liquid looked like berry syrup. It felt like berry syrup. And it definitely smelled like berry syrup. Stretch examined it at all angles. "How'd I know you didn't slip an _extra-special ingredient_ into this?" Given the circumstances, Shadow was likely to do anything, even to poison Stretch so as to terminate him. The bespectacled ghost simply smiled.

"Would I ever do that to my _beloved_ elder brother?" Shadow asked, dripping sweet innocence. Stinkie nearly gagged at the mock naivety. It was truly sickening, really. Stretch gave the syrup one more inspection and finally drizzled the reddish-purple colored syrup all over his waffles before forcefully shoving them in his mouth. All the while keeping an icy, firm glare on Shadow. The latter now had his arm slung around Kat's neck as though she had allowed him to be even slightly intimate with her. Well, she hadn't.

"Please be so kind as to remove your arm," She ordered strictly. Shadow was unfazed. He just smirked lasciviously. "Feisty. Love that in a bone bag," He commented before allowing his hand to now go lower. Kat was paralyzed. Shadow was a potentially hazardous person; he wouldn't think twice of smashing her against the table if she dared rebuke him. Stretch was shoveling the waffles in his mouth even more violently now. He was practically burning at the sight of Shadow making passes at Kat. It reminded him of what he did to Angela. He could just remember seeing Shadow trying to get Angela drunk and slip her shirt off. The reflection made him sick to the core! And that was going to happen literally in 3, 2….

"Gacck!!!" Stretch begin choking as though he swallowed a harmonica. Stinkie looked concerned. Deeply concerned. He remembered the occasions that Stretch would start retching. They weren't _good _memories. He patted Stretch roughly on the back. "Stretch, you ok?" His voice was filled with brotherly anxiety. The tall, lanky ghost was turning a putrid shade of green. He was clutching his stomach hard. His other hand clamped firmly on his mouth. Casper stared at his nauseous uncle in horror. Old Faithful was going to blow!! At that point, Stretch zipped out of the kitchen and into the nearest bathroom where the most inhumanly retching noises were heard! Kat looked worried yet suspicious. Casper had once told her that Stretch only threw up because of one thing: maple syrup. Casper seemed to share her suspicions for he immediately reached for the pitcher that _supposedly _contained berry syrup.

"I wonder," His words trailed off as he picked up a globule of the sticky purple mass and tasted it gingerly. His pupils dilated….Maple syrup! Or given its condition, maple syrup that had been colored purple and combined with berry essence. Everybody glared accusingly at Shadow who simply smiled. The intense silence was only broken my Stretch's distant loud vomiting. "What? I thought his childish allergy ended years ago." The accused explained. Stinkie felt like slapping Shadow's face from here to Timbuktu. "Allergies last lifetimes, you idiot!!" He shouted, flailing his arms wildly. Shadow rolled his eyes. He didn't seem the least bit guilty for his immature yet potentially venomous prank.

"I'm going to check on my dear brother whom I've _accidentally_ 'poisoned'. Hold all my messages, please," And with a 'tah-tah', Stretch's evil duplicate floated off. Kat folded her arms with a disgusted scowl on her face. "I can't believe that despicable scoundrel!" She declared furiously. Casper nodded with agreement. Stinkie nudged Fatso. "Come on Fatso. Let's go search Shadow's room. The sneak's probably got an arsenal of 'harmless tricks' up his sleeve," Fatso saluted before both of them flew up to Shadow's bedchamber.

Kat chewed her bottom lip in worry. Casper flew over and patted her hand reassuringly. "Don't worry; my uncles are a knitted bunch; they'll keep Shadow out of any further damage."

"I hope so, Casper. I hope so."

_Meanwhile…_

Stretch rinsed all the bitter residue out of his mouth. He grimaced as he gazed at the sludgy mixture of partially-digested food and orange juice pulp at the bottom of the toilet. He was painfully bent over and retching violently into the porcelain bowl. He rested against the cramped quarters of the bathroom. This was a safety precaution in case he needed to barf again. Staggering to the mirror on the wall, he noticed that the green had finally gone out of his ectoplasm. Yet, he still felt a bit nauseous. He flushed the toilet and was soon greeted by the person who allegedly food poisoned him.

"Well, it looks like my beloved brother all better now," Shadow waltzed in as nonchalantly as though he was walking a dog. Eyes narrowed, Stretch readied his acidic tongue.

"Go fuck yourself, asshole," He remarked gruffly. Shadow covered his mouth, mock scared.

"Seems like somebody needs to wash his mouth out with soap. Good thing Casper's not here."

"Better hearing me curse than having a conversation alone with you, dirt bag." Stretch's voice was tart.

The blatant insult washed over Shadow like a tidal wave. The twiggy, bespectacled ghost grew sour.

"You're pathetic, you know that? You think you're so great. But you aren't. You can't even handle a maple syrup allergy."

"Well at least, I never turned my back on family."

"Oh yes, I'm the villain. You're the hero. Perfect deduction, Sherlock Holmes." Shadow commented sarcastically. He washed his hands before turning to leave. "Let me just remind you, Stretch. Nobody's perfect. Not even you." At that point, Shadow left with an arrogant air.

Stretch slumped against the bathroom wall. A warm rivulet of tear ran down his cheek. He was surprised. It was so long since he'd done this. Ever since J. T's funeral, he promised never to do it again.

He was _crying_.

A/N: Well that's that. Wait'll you read the next chapter!


	5. Digging Deeply

A/N: Well, here's the 5th chapter up and running. This one's going to have lots of Stinkie and Fatso. And you'll learn what sort shady business Shadow's been up to.

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Chapter 5

Digging Deep

"What exactly are we supposed to be looking for, Stinkie?" Fatso inquired as the two of them swept their watchful eyes carefully about the room. They vowed they would leave know stone unturned in Shadow's room. It didn't look that easy to go scrounging for clues; Shadow's room was perfectly neat. His bed was devoid of any creases or wrinkles. His chest of drawers looked unused. Basically, there wasn't a hair out of place. Stinkie sighed in near defeat. This was definitely going to be a lot harder than he thought. He and Fatso began poking and prodding through every nook and cranny in Shadow's room. They even, in desperation, peeked into the mouse hole! Stinkie was getting a tad lethargic.

"It's either Shadow planned all this or we're the worst spies ever!" He proclaimed. Fatso exhaled in disappointment before settling on top of Shadow's bed. That's when the incriminating 'Crack' was heard. Stinkie spun around. "Fatso!" He shouted, alarming the corpulent ghost. "What?!" The aforementioned questioned, curious. Stinkie, not answering, shoved the plump spirit off the bed before ripping off the painstakingly straightened sheets of the bed. Slipping his hand between the mattresses, he felt a smooth, rectangular object. Bingo! He produced a just-sandwiched laptop out of the mattresses.

Without another word, he flipped the top open and switched the gadget on. Horrifying wallpaper portraying a skeleton coming out of a humongous cavern in the wall and giving the middle finger. Stinkie snorted; how typical of Shadow to come up with something so crude. A pop up warning instantly appeared, asking to verify whether whoever was using knew the 'secret password'. Stinkie deflated. He was expecting Shadow to secure all his accounts. The username was 'ShadowRox4eva' and a box underneath was empty. Fatso peered over Stinkie's shoulder. "Man, are we in a pickle now," he commented.

"You think? It'll take forever to think of the password. Besides, it'll probably something stupid like 'Stretch Must Die Again'." He muttered dryly. Soon, as though a light bulb turned itself on in his brain, Stinkie immediately typed the aforementioned password. Expectantly, the computer resumed desktop mode. Stinkie surveyed the surroundings. There was only one lone icon. It was entitled 'Revenge'. The smelly ghost instinctively clicked on it. Almost on command, windows filled with screenshots of Stretch filled the entire screen. Also listed were his weaknesses, strengths, secrets, etc. Stinkie and Fatso's eyes were now totally drawn to the laptop screen like flies to honey. What was Shadow doing with these valuable pieces of information?

At that point, an email popped up. Typed on it in Times New Roman font was:

_We analyzed the info you sent, Shadow. Hunts is proud._

_He's very eager to finally capture the violet-eyed one._

_He, however, awaits your orders on what to do with the other three._

_Shall we dispose of them as well?_

_Please reply soon. _

_-Dark Stranger._

Stinkie cupped his mouth thoughtfully. Who was Hunts? Or Dark Stranger? The 'violet-eyed one' was definitely Stretch. The 'other three' could mean him, Fatso and Casper. After a couple minutes of thought, a dreadful revelation washed over him; Shadow was assisting ghost hunters in the disposal of Casper and the Ghostly Trio! This was not good. Nope. Not at all!

"Uh…Stinkie, Shadow's coming back," Fatso alerted, having peeped outside and seeing Shadow floating down the corridor, His room was right smack at the end of the hall. Stinkie hurriedly logged off and shoved the laptop between mattresses again. After incredibly managing to lay down the sheets neatly again in under five minutes, Stinkie dragged Fatso down through the floor. At that moment, they heard Shadow speaking to no one in particular.

"Yes…oh, of course….We must dispose of them as well," Stinkie gulped when he heard that particular sentence. Fatso soon assassinated him with repeated questions; what's going on? What does Shadow mean?

But Stinkie brushed it all off. He couldn't believe it. Not only was Stretch in danger now.

Everybody was.

_Everybody_.


	6. The Incense of Reminiscence

A/N: Ok, after that chapter, here's a chapter detailing Stretch's reminiscence. 'Going Down in Flames' belongs to 3 Doors Down, not me.

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Chapter 6

The Incense of Reminiscence

Whenever he was feeling downright lousy, Stretch always relied on his extra-alcoholic Jack Daniels martinis. And today was no exception. For at this very moment, Stretch felt lower than an alcoholic sinner hyped up on Ecstasy He gingerly poured himself a glass off the head-turning brew and gulped it all down. Though all the liquid did was trickle down his semi-transparent gullet. Sighing heavily, he tweaked the dials of a never-been-dusted radio. Music had always boasted to be the remedy for many illnesses, physical and mentally. At first, a squeaky remixed version of 'American Idiot' oozed out of the speakers. Stretch scrutinized this. It sure didn't feel like moping music. He fiddled with the knobs again. An angst-filled rhapsody blared. Now, this was moping music.

_Don't tell me what to think,_

_Cause I don't care this time,_

_Don't tell me what to believe,_

_Cause you won't be there,_

Stretch sank deep into his frayed armchair. What happened to them? To the bond that held him and Shadow together? Did it simply dematerialize? He remembered when they used to fit nicely like peanut butter and jelly. He was Beavis and Shadow was Butthead. He was liver and Shadow was onions. They were a perfect match. Inseparable, even. Yet, it all slowly but surely faded away into an abyss. Every portion and smidgen of their joyful childhood…gone. Finished. Kaput. Disappeared. Sighing deeply, Stretch turned up the volume of the ancient radio.

_To catch me when I fall,_

_Or you'll need me when I'm not here at all,_

_Miss me when I'm gone,_

_Again, yeah,_

He stuck his hand into a corner of the seat of the armchair. He yanked out dog-eared, frayed, faded and pretty much grimy photograph. It was a picture of him and his dear brothers fishing in the old swimming/fishing hole. They were all probably in their tween years. Stretch grinned fondly. He loved remembering that particular memory. The photo depicted Fatso accidentally hooking Stretch by the collar and sending flying into the creek after he hoisted the fishing rod. Stinkie was laughing his head off at the incident. Shadow just smirked before helping poor and incredibly drenched Stretch out of the frigid waters. Stretch laughed good-naturedly; that was probably one of the very rare good deeds of Shadow McFadden.

_I'm going down in flames,_

_I'm falling into this again, yeah,_

_I'm going down in flames,_

_I'm falling into this again,_

_Oh, no,_

He focused on how grubby they looked at that time. He, himself, was known to some adults as 'a wretched little scamp that does nothing but goof off all day'. He chuckled softly. He had this chocolate brown hair, parted in the center. He got his sparkling, though not as deep as now, violet eyes. He was more bone than lean muscle. He was perpetually seen wearing a stained T-shirt, denim cutoffs and cork sandals. As for Stinkie, guy with always dirty and scruffy brown hair, stained protruding teeth and golden eyes, was content in donning patched and torn overalls that had food, mud, crap etc stains. Fatso, with his rotund shape, same facial features as Stinkie and a pitiful method of styling simply wore supremely large shirts with baggy corduroys. Stretch zeroed in on Shadow's early looks.

With the same face and body build as Stretch, you get a semi-clear picture of how he might look. The only thing that stopped people from thinking they're identical twins was Shadow's black-rimmed glasses, sandy blonde hair, stooped shoulders and retainer. Stretch turned serious at this. Despite Shadow being considerably older than him, Stretch outdid him in the looks department. He had impeccable 20/20 vision, two rows of perfectly sparkly, white and fresh teeth and a tall, lean, lanky but strong build. He knew that was partially the reason Shadow grew cold to him. He was simply envious.

_Don't tell me how life is,_

_Cause I don't really want to know,_

_Don't tell me how this game ends,_

_Cause we'll just see how it goes,_

_Catch me when I fall,_

_Or you'll need me when I'm not here at all,_

_Miss me when I'm gone,_

_Again, yeah, yeah,_

Stretch slipped the photo back into its hiding place. Taking another sip from a freshly-concocted martini, he reflected back on their many shenanigans. There was this time they tried to nick off cranky Mr. Murphy's deliciously baked apple clobbers. It didn't really ended well. All it got them was boxed ears, a good spanking and a tussle with Murphy's ferocious Doberman. It left each of them a sore behind, pained ears and animal bites on their arms. Ouch! Also there were the times they would argue over who'd get the last slice of their mom's sinfully tantalizing chocolate cake. Stretch guffawed at the memory of slapping Fatso's greedy paw away before it snaked to the plate and made off with the cake. Shadow told him that was a smart move. Stretch had never felt prouder.

_I'm going down in flames,_

_I'm falling into this again, yeah,_

_I'm going down in flames,_

_I'm falling into this again,_

Stretch could remember one particularly heart-warming memory. He and Shadow were lying side by side in an abandoned, open pasture. He could nearly smell the fragrant lilacs and daisies. Him and Shadow were gazing up into the twinkling stars. Stretch remarked about how this made you feel totally insignificant. Shadow concurred; he said they were probably tiny dust specks floating about in this complicated universe. Or were they? Did they have a task to fulfill while on Earth? Stretch remembered feeling impressed with Shadow's perspective of things. His brother was very philosophical. That was also the day Shadow's most prized possession was passed down to Stretch: a polished gold watch.

_Flashback…_

"_Here you go, little bro," Walter dug into his pocket and yanked out a lovely gold watch dangling on its chain. Arthur's eyes widened; was Walt giving him that? He'd always dream of owning such importance and beauty. Clasping the shining adornment, he flipped the top open and gazed at the second, minute and hour hand of the delicate ornament. He was speechless. Walt slung his arm around Arthur's shoulder. _

"_You know, Art, we're going to be recognizable people one day. Important, recognizable people."_

_Arthur thought that was the truest thing anyone had ever said._

_End flashback…_

Stretch frowned. Shadow became recognized alright. As a back-stabbing murderer. Still, Stretch couldn't help the tears that were flowing down his cheeks like tiny waterfalls. He missed those times. He wanted cool, intelligent, nice, adventurous, teasing and philosophical Shadow back. Not some pretentious, suck-upping and evil lout.

_Now, I'm all the way down here,_

_I'm falling,_

_I'm all the way done way down here,_

_I'm falling down again,_

_I'm falling down,_

_I'm falling down,_

_I'm falling down,_

Will they ever reconcile? Stretch didn't know that answer. Still, there was chance and hope. The most appropriate thing to do for now is pray. Pray that Shadow and him will live in brotherly love. Pray that 'Happily ever after' will be the words to end this tale. And pray that he will never stop being determined and encouraged to take care of his family and close friends.

Forever.

_I'm going down in flames,_

_I'm falling into this again, yeah,_

_I'm going down in flames,_

_I'm falling into this again, yeah,_

_Now, I'm all the way down here,_

_And I'm falling,_

_All the way,_

_All the way down here,_

_I'm falling again now,_

_And I'm falling down,_

A/N: Well, that long chapter made up for the last rather short chapter. Please R/R!


	7. Vendetta

A/N: In this little opus, Stinkie and Fatso decide to tell Kat about Shadow's evil plot. I thank my loyal fans for the many generous comments. Please continue to review.

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Chapter 7

Vendetta

"No way," Kat breathed out. It was wrong! This wasn't supposed to happen. Well, she did imagine that Shadow would be some twisted fiend out to liquidate Stretch but those were childish imaginings. They weren't supposed to come true! Stinkie and Fatso had just unloaded Shadow's torturous and downright scandalous plot on Kat. Her reaction was expectant. She was now a combination of shock, fear and curiosity. Shadow wouldn't do something that horrible, would he? Soon, she recalled the sickening incident at breakfast; Shadow was definitely capable of anything. Even forming alliances with ghost hunters to out his longtime enemy. With an exasperated groan, Kat burrowed deeply into an overwhelming leather armchair. Things weren't looking up at all. Stinkie, sharing her pain, slung his arm around her neck. For once in her adolescent life, Kat didn't shrug him off.

"Look, Kitty Kat, I know it looks hopeless," He began good-naturedly. "Not to mention, we can't do anything about it." Kat reminded them. She knew she was bringing everyone's morale down but they should face the facts. Chances of them defeating Shadow and yanking Stretch out of terminal depression are dwindling. While they're only five people, Shadow's got an army of ghost hunters that can and will destroy them. "Yeah, I know. But that doesn't mean that we should just throw in the towel. We got to fight back," Stinkie urged with a determined look on his face. Truth was, Stinkie was feeling as hopeless as Kat and Fatso were feeling. Shadow was a scheming and wily adversary; he wouldn't think twice of selfishly selling them out to the ghost hunters. He frowned at this.

This stupid thing all started because of his jealousy and bitterness. If it weren't for that, J. T wouldn't be pushing up daises prematurely, Stretch wouldn't feel so low or hateful towards him and Casper would have another nice, adventurous and kind of loony uncle. It was unbelievable! Shadow was sacrificing pure brotherly love all because of a stupid vendetta spawned from jealousy. That was revolting. Kat must have read his mind for at that point.

"It's stupid, you know. Giving up family due to some idiotic competition," Stinkie nodded at her remark. He knew what it was like growing up with not one, but two totally competitive older brothers. Shadow was always throwing tantrums whenever Stretch won one of their board games, video games, races .etc. And he won 24/7. Stinkie gulped as he remembered one particularly painful memory that resulted in exchanged blows and unrestrained swearing.

_Flashback…._

"_And that is checkmate. Got you again, Walt!" The lanky, boyish-looking teenager attacked Walter's king with swift decisive planning and a whole lot of luck. Arthur leaned back in his chair, beaming with triumphant pride. Walter gritted his teeth; how could he make such a stupid mistake?! His queen wasn't defending anything, for crying out loud!!! He scowled at Arthur's prideful face. _

_Wasn't it bad enough that he was second best academic-wise? Now he was being beaten at chess! Walter clenched his fists tightly; no way was he going to let this one slide. Stewart looked at him, concerned. He silently wished Walter wouldn't do anything to provoke Arthur. Despite being younger than the former, Arthur was a black belt in karate. _

_But he had to say something._

_"You cheated. Like you always do," Walter declared defiantly. Arthur's smug smirk became a displeased frown. Stewart and Carlos gulped. A fight was going to erupt very, very soon. "What do you mean 'cheat'? You're just jealous I won, that's all," Arthur retorted. Stewart silently pleaded Arthur to not add fuel to the fire. _

_Arthur did not seem to listen hard enough. Stewart got cranky. _

_"Call me jealous, would you?!" The elder, much more bad-tempered brother got up and stomped right up to Arthur's hawk-like nose. "Well at least I'm not some overachieving cheater like someone else!" Now Arthur's usually deep, gentle were now luminous with rage. Stewart and Carlos backed away into the corridor. Things were bound to get messy anytime soon. Arthur drew himself up so now he was standing nose-to-nose with Walter. "Say that again, slime bucket and you'll find one of your chess pieces jammed up your rear end," he threatened dangerously. Walter held his ground Adding insult to injury, he proclaimed,_

_"Make me, smart-mouth!"_

_Arthur's control snapped._

_What followed were exchanged hard blows, rounds of spouted obscenities and gnashing. It left both the boys with bleeding noses, cut eyelids, twisted elbows and a broken lamp. Stewart and Carlos gasped. If it weren't for Joseph running for their mother, Arthur and Walter would be tussling on a white cloud in the sky with halos on their head. _

_Both of them grounded, Walter and Arthur swore never to acknowledge each other's existence ever again. _

_Arthur even chucked Walter's prize gold watch into the river. _

_Walter tore up Arthur's 10-page long English composition._

_Arthur burnt Walter's Valentine's Day card for Angela._

_The vendetta between them just grew and grew…and grew._

_For 15 years…_

_End Flashback…._

Stinkie still cringed when he recalled that memory. Shadow and Stretch had obviously never forgiven each other for that incident. As such the tension between the two men/ghosts increased. And now, it was turning positively sadistic and violent. Shadow was pulling no punches here. These ghost hunters were going to conquer Whipstaff; it was inevitable. Yet, there was still chance. It may be microscopic but it was still chance. Kat noticed Stinkie's hopeful expression and sighed. She leapt off the armchair and stretched.

"First things first, we ought to tell Stretch. Where is he anyway?" Fatso fielded in the question. "I saw him flying up to the attic."

Kat muttered a 'thank you' and bounded up the stairs to the attic. All the while, she thought about how much Stretch had changed ever since Shadow arrived. He'd gone from an energetic livewire to a repressed, depressed hermit crab. It was strange. Usually Stretch would be cracking jokes or plotting fiendish pranks but now all he was content to do is mope around, nestling a glass of Jack Daniels. Kat grimaced; sure, she found Stretch mostly irritating back then. Yet, that was his nature. This new Stretch was just….not him.

Kat couldn't believe it.

She actually _missed_ Stretch.

A/N: Well, why don't you click on that review button and I'll have a new chapter on the rocks.


	8. Mind Games

A/N: In this chapter is a hell of a lot of Shadow/Casper interaction. Also, you shall discover that Shadow has a secret power. And yes, this story's going to include a hell of a lot of Stretch/Kat moments.

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Chapter 8

Mind Games

Casper's throat felt as though it was being clamped. He had to leave this place. Now! The sunlight streaming through the open windows were much more sinister than superb. Everything in the house looked like it was distorted into a monstrous replica of what it was supposed to be. The walls were closing in on him. They seemed to threaten to squash him into a thin slice of ectoplasmic pizza. He wasn't claustrophobic or adopted any fear of four adjoining walls; he simply couldn't stand floating aimlessly through the dusty corridors.

And this weird, tingly feeling appeared when he heard Shadow hollering for him.

If there was one thing worse than death itself, it was being forced to see, talk, or god forbid, _bond_ with the sadistic lunatic. Casper didn't want to be within talking distance with Shadow. He didn't want to endure Shadow's phony-baloney smirks. Shadow had this effect; he made you want to vomit blood whenever he suggested you and him attempt to have a civilized conversation. Casper didn't want to be a part of that.

"Casper, darling," The bespectacled ghost's suave voice echoed throughout the manor's seemingly empty hallways. Shadow smirked devilishly. Phase 1 was completed. He had infiltrated Whipstaff manor. Now phase 2 was in action. He was going to make stubborn Casper trust him, with very painful psychological techniques. He frowned however, when he remembered that his 'little champ' was exceedingly loyal to Stretch. Despite Stretch's purposeful mistreatment, Casper still showed unwavering loyalty to the elder ghost. The realization made Shadow want to throw up then and there.

However, there was a chance all of that could change.

With just a simple staring session.

Smirking, he called out again. "Casper! Where are you, my little champ?" However, he was getting a little annoyed by the way Casper was fleeing him. He thought the little twerp was supposed to be obedient as a greyhound. "Casper, don't make your uncle Shadow angry! You wouldn't like him when he gets angry." Casper gulped. Shadow had spat out the last sentence through gritted teeth. Now Casper really wanted to disappear into thin air.

Flying up frantically through the east wing of Whipstaff, he ducked into a cramped store room. Sighing in relief, he weighed his possible options.

Confront Shadow on why he wants to see him.

Hide in the closet like the mama's ghost he was.

Tell Stretch about this.

Casper grimaced. Those were not very useful options. For one thing, if he chose to confront Shadow, he'd a shallow puddle of ectoplasm. If he decided to hide in the closet, he'd probably go insane from never ending isolation. If he told Stretch about this, his uncle would obviously slip even deeper into his already eternal depression. He exhaled; his afterlife sucked. It really did.

"There you are, sweet bundle of joy," Shadow frightened the wits out of Casper when he, out of the blue, phased through the store room door and was now floating face-to-face with the shivering ghost. Never had Casper been so afraid of any of his uncles. Sure, he did quiver like a plate of jelly whenever the Ghostly Trio hollered at him for whatever torturous chore they got in store for him. But Shadow was different.

The ghost was capable of grisly murder.

Shadow's smirk was real. A smirk filled with triumph and malice. Casper swallowed hard. What fiendish thing was Shadow going to do now? Wasn't poisoning Stretch enough? Shadow, his hands clasped tightly behind his back, held Casper with a steely glare. Casper got that sinking feeling again. His throat tightened yet again. Especially when Shadow pushed his face dangerously into his own.

His eyes. They were terribly painful to look into what with their icicle quality. Yet, they seemed to pierce through the barriers that divided your mind, heart and soul. Their emerald green color was simply mesmerizing. The kind of eyes that looked right through you or into you. Casper started to calm down. It was as though every troubled feeling melted away from him into a black hole. He was in Peace mode for the time being.

And that was exactly what Shadow wanted.

Grinning evilly, he muttered, "Trust me," Casper could only nod dumbly. Shadow's eyes seemed to spiral and interlock with his. They were like little pools of ecstasy that were being absorbed into Casper's naïve blue pupils. And Casper was too entranced to stop it from seeping in. He actually felt safe with the totally dangerous ghost. Little did he know he was in grave danger.

"That Stretch is a no-good devil. He's the son of Satan. A tool of Beelzebub. Don't believe a word he says. He killed your father, not I." Casper was about to nod again when Stinkie ripped the door open. Shadow cursed noiselessly as Casper shook his head roughly. The young ghost was certainly out of sorts at the moment.

"There you are, where you've been?" Stinkie asked, especially concerned that his nephew was cavorting with his known-to-be-dangerous brother. Shadow, covering his frustrated scowl with one of his beguiling smiles, turned around to explain. "You see, dear Stinkie, I caught Casper fooling around with the vacuum cleaner. Poor chap's going to get himself sucked into that thing one day," And with that, and with a malicious wink at Casper, the sinister ghost floated away. Casper blinked his eyes repeatedly.

He couldn't shake off Shadow's haunting voice. And those eyes. Those godforsaken hideously mesmerizing eyes! Stinkie looked at Casper worriedly. He gripped Casper's shoulders roughly.

"Casper, whatever that bastard said to you, don't ever believe it," Casper nodded but the lingering voice echoed into his ears.

_"Trust me…trust me…trust me,"_

_Later…_

"Blast! If that sniveling and horrendously smelling ghost hadn't butted in, I'd have that creep under my control in a second!" Shadow was fuming. He had it all under control. He just had to make Casper distrust his one true enemy. But he failed. Still infuriated, he pushed the button in his glasses and the tiny microphone poke out again.

"Hello, Hunts. Phase 2 has failed. But don't go pulling your hair out just yet. I've got a plan. I'll hypnotize _another_ one of Stretch's beloved comrades. And believe me, Hunts, it'll be foolproof. Seriously it will. You know me; I'm a breeze at hypnotism. Stretch will rue the day for stealing Angela away from me. Oh, revenge certainly is sweet."

And he ended with one of his spine-chilling, trademark maniacal laughs.

A/N: Well, that's that. Read and review as usual.


	9. Hidden Talents

A/N: Well, that was a cliffhanger. Now, here contains lots of Kat/Stretch moments. See a side of Stretch you've never seen before.

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Chapter 9

Hidden Talents

Kat breathed in deeply. She was now standing face-to-face with the attic's dust-encrusted door. She reached out to twist the knob but found herself pulling back.

_Don't be such a coward, _She scolded herself for chickening out but she simply couldn't. What if Stretch didn't want to be bothered right now? Despite her pure, unadulterated irritation of him, she had to cut him some slack in this situation. The guy looked downright pitiful. You would to if your psycho-cum-murderer elder brother has returned to haunt you for the rest of your afterlife. Yet, Kat couldn't muster up the courage to turn the doorknob and watch him wallow in his misery.

_This is stupid, Kat Harvey. Just knock at that door and…Wow! This door is really nice. Nice wood. Nice dark, tasteful color. And…Now, you're stalling. _Kat exhaled loudly. She squared her shoulders and gripped the brass doorknob with newfound determination. Twisting it until she heard a 'Click' sound, she pushed the door open. Its rusty hinges creaked as they rubbed against each other. The scene that greeted her was totally and utterly unexpected.

The attic, by attic standards, looked pretty much alright. It was strangely spacious and was filled with very few antiques and various century-old paraphernalia. A large leather chest with a tarnished brass lock on it was lying parallel to the attic's dirty floorboards. Faded daisy-printed wallpaper was attached to the walls. Paper was strewn all around the attic. Some composed of sketches of nature, people etc. Others detailed of poems on heartbreak, depression and loss. A stack of blank papers was settled on the floor in a neat little stack.

And floating there, with a paintbrush precariously dangling from his fingertips.

Facing an easel where he had painted an exquisite seaside scene.

Was Stretch.

Kat blinked. Her mouth dropped open. Stretch _painted_? He, Mr.-Don't-Mess-With-Me-Or-I'll-Kill-You', paints and composes poetry? She was sure she had entered an alternate universe when she walked through the attic door. She bent gracefully and examined a portrait of the classic bowl of fruit. She stroked the fruits gently. Their vibrant colors and lovely outlines nearly stimulated her appetite. The apples, bananas, grapes and oranges…they were sketched, penciled, painted and varnished to perfection. She was certainly awestruck. She tried to stare through Stretch's ectoplasmic figure at the brilliant capture of the beach which he had recently painted.

The sand was a delicate smidgen of yellow ochre with dabs of sandy brown. The sea boasted a mixture of aquamarine blue, sea foam green, emerald jewel tones and the tiniest dab of orange where it reflected the rich orange sunset. The sky was radiant; it was a menagerie of relaxing light blue. Kat found herself on that beach, cooling her sore digits in the lovely sea, her hair blown back by the delicious breeze and sifting the golden, rolling sand between her fingertips…..

"Take a picture. It'll last longer," Stretch muttered, bringing her out of her Hawaiian daydream. Kat flushed; she never expected he'd notice her. Then again, the creaking hinges would alarm anyone unless they were deaf which Stretch certainly wasn't. It was weird, however. Stretch didn't scream at Kat for barging in without knocking. The ghost would usually be very sketchy about his personal afterlife. Dr. Harvey could prompt Stretch to spill his former life to him for centuries and Stretch would still stay clamped up like a giant clam. Kat's hopes sank. Was Stretch really this messed up about Shadow's visit or was she doomed to be with this sweet, sensitive yet utterly boring new Stretch for the rest of her miserable life?

"Beautiful, huh?" Stretch asked, gesturing to his completed picture. Kat's eyes lit up. The brilliant orange sunset seemed to be radiating gorgeous waves of smudged vermillion, baby pink with touches of lavender. It was a feast for Kat's chocolate eyes. She gasped. Stretch shrugged. "It's just one of my masterpieces," He placed the palette and paintbrush he had been holding onto the floor and collected all the stray papers on the floorboards. Kat watched him as he sorted the papers according to the time he painted them.

_Wow, he looks so rigid and stoic when he just sits there quietly. I've never imagined he could patiently sit there and not lose his cool when he paints or composes poetry, _Kat blushed at her thoughts. But they were correct. Stretch was an active volcano that was waiting for the 'Go' signal to erupt. He would explode at the next person who dares cross his path, enrages him or pretty much irritates him. Yet now, it seemed his very low patience threshold had increased significantly. Stretch stopped sorting for a moment and pulled out a particular sketch.

Kat peered over his shoulder. The sketch was off a beautiful girl. Stretch had even managed to capture the girl's elegance and regal charm. The girl had waist-length hair, falling in sweeping layers and flips. Her eyes were gradually deep and endless. Her lips, defined, full and looked delicate. Her curvaceous and petite figure was encased in an off-the-shoulder cocktail gown. Her dainty feet were fitted with a pair of bejeweled sandals. Kat's eyes drifted above her. Stretch was an amazing artist. Kat nearly thought the girl would leap out of the sketch and greet lovingly. She looked so…life-like. Stretch noticed her examining stare.

"That's Angela. Lovely creature, isn't she?" Kat had to agree with Stretch. Angela was beautiful but she wasn't a shallow, air-headed beauty. She seemed to have this elegant and classy sophistication radiating from her as she stood there, poised. Stretch's artistic hands captured her from every angle. She was definitely impressed. She tore her eyes away to survey the attic. "Why do you come up here?" She inquired. Stretch looked up. But he wasn't angry.

"When you or the others give me heaps, I escape to here. It helps me think. And now that Sir Shadow has entered the jousting match, I'm going to be here a lot more," He explained, continuing to file the portraits, sketches, poems etc. At the mention of Shadow's name, Kat remembered why she would come up here in the first place. Biting her lip, she nudged Stretch.

"Umm…there's something you need to know about Shadow." Stretch looked up, puzzled. Kat closed her eyes as the sordid details fell out of her mouth like marbles tumbling out of a torn pocket. Kat finally opened her eyes. She watched Stretch's expressions play about on his face. First, it was shock. Then, wonder. Then, deep though. And lastly, to Kat's utter amazement, he shrugged and got back to sorting. No longer impressed or intoxicated by his gorgeous pictures, she ripped the pictures from his chilly hands and flung to the floor.

A scream of rage, that familiar spark of fire flickering in his eyes, even a scowl was what she expected. But an ignorant, deadpanned expression and a devil-may-care shrug? Whatever had taken over Stretch's soul, mind and body and drained him of that warrior spirit that Kat had missed for this past few days was NOT amusing her. In fact, she despised it. With all the anger of a bull ready to charge at the red flag which was unfortunately, Stretch, Kat let him have it. With both barrels.

"That's it??!! What happened to kicking him out?!! Why aren't you taking action?!! Why aren't out there making sure you're relatives and myself are okay with that monster you call a brother?!! Why aren't you fulfilling your duties as a leader?!"

"But..I..I.." Stretch stammered out but Kat did not let him have his chance to explain.

"What happened to the old Stretch?!! The one who'd never let his enemies bring him down?!! The one who'd rule this household with an iron fist?!! The one who'd hold grudges until the end of the world?!! Where is he now?! All I see is a pathetic pile of ectoplasmic jelly quivering in an attic because he's too depressed and self-indulgent to do anything!! Leaders don't cower; they take action!" She slammed her fist into her open palm with energy to illustrate her point.

"Think about Julius Caesar. Look at Napoleon. Did they hide away in some godforsaken dungeon and paint some admittedly-beautiful yet useless paintings when their enemies come to stay?! You're a leader, lead! We'll follow behind! Stretch, please. What happened to you?" Kat asked with pleading eyes. Stretch sighed. Then, in a blatant, embittered tone, he muttered.

"Stretch's gone. He's history. Nobody liked him and his bossy ranting anyway." Kat's eyes widened. He had to know the truth. She would regret it but he must know.

"I did!!" Stretch's attention snapped to Kat. _She did? The girl that hated him when she first came liked him?_ "Before the moping, before the cowering and before the depression, you _were_ Stretch." Tears were streaming down Kat's flushed face. She was exhausted after her powerful outburst. Stretch hung his head, regretful.

"Now…I don't' who you are anymore."

With red eyes from weeping, flushed cheeks from lecturing and a feeling of defeat washing over her, Kat staggered out the door, leaving Stretch floating.

He was taking it all in. The paintings….the information he received….the outburst and…Kat's reveal. Slumping against the chest, he sighed. How foolish was he! Instead of leading the troops like he always did, he was hiding away like a coward. And because of what? Self-loathing? Anger? Fear?

He didn't know.

Floating up with a determined look on his face, he set off to find Stinkie and Fatso to apologize. He really had to mend his fences now.

It was crucial.

A/N: Well, there you go. Wait for the next chapter in a couple days time.


	10. Epiphany

A/N: Finally, I can actually update with a new chapter. Hope you enjoy this.

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Chapter 10

Epiphany

_Ok, let's see. "Hey guys, I'm sorry for being such a jerk. Now let's go and take down Shadow for the greater good of ghosts out there." Nah, sounds too machismo. Oh how about? "Listen, I'm super sorry for acting like such a coward. Forgive me?" Ok, now I sound like a poor sap that's lost all real meaning in life. _Stretch sighed exasperatedly. He had spent the last couple of minutes pacing up and down in his bedroom, thinking up an appropriate apology to deliver his brothers. The apology had to be meaningful yet authoritative. He certainly didn't want Stinkie and Fatso to rub this in his face whenever they had another one of their childish arguments. He was the leader after all. After the little 'confrontation' with Kit Kat, he remembered his rightful place.

He had multiple epiphanies about the entire situation. He could picture Shadow laughing maniacally at his newfound control over Whipstaff. He cringed as he imagined himself being beaten down and insulted relentlessly by Shadow who'd probably make everybody his personal servant. Stretch frowned in dismay as he saw Casper being forced to pick out food particles in Shadow's teeth. The poor kid! Stretch would never do that to the little runt. Despite everything he put Casper through; he always, secretly, goes upstairs to give the kid a goodnight kiss. Stinkie would probably be ordered to clean everything…with his kryptonite. Water! Stinkie would never be able to handle it. Fatso would be forced to cook for the fiend and not get a single crumb of the goodies he prepared. And then there was poor, pitiful, sexually abused Kitty Kat.

Stretch felt the long extinguished fire being ignited in his cold, dead heart. His fists clenched tightly at the prospect of Kat being groped or hit on by Shadow as she, with no willingness at all, traipsed around in a figure-hugging, super short and low-cut French Maid outfit, fishnet stockings and kitten heels. Shadow would call her a stupid nickname such as 'Baby Doll' and command to do the most degrading tasks. Stretch had vowed, had promised and had sworn to Kitty Kat he'd never let that happen to her.

Secretly, underneath all the embittered coldness he showered Kat with, he treated with a great deal of respect and never really had indecently handled her. Disbelievingly, Stretch had become somewhat of a bodyguard to Kat. Once, when she came crying home after being bullied and nearly raped by a teenage boy at her school, Stretch had ordered Stinkie and Fatso to bring back the little troublemaker to Whipstaff. Needless to say, the boy returned to school permanently attached to a wheelchair with a broken arm, a dislocated knee and a snapped spinal cord. He also profusely apologized to Kat, surprising her immensely. Yup, unbeknownst to her, Stretch cared. And now he had to show that by his actions.

"Ok, it's now or never," He muttered when he heard Stinkie and Fatso approaching their bedroom. They seemed amazed that Stretch had finally dragged himself out of the attic. Their leader gave them a sheepish little wave. "Uh…hey guys?" He greeted half-heartedly. When they didn't respond, Stretch immediately catapulted himself into the apology.

"Look, I know I screwed up big time. But I'm ready to make it up to you twos if you just let me," He held out his hand as a peace offering and smiled hopefully. Stinkie and Fatso exchanged big goofy smiles and flung themselves at Stretch's lanky structure, hugging him like abandoned children who've finally found their parents.

"Aw, of course we forgive you, you big softie. And to think we thought we lost you forever!" Fatso boomed as he squeezed his elder brother hard.

"You twos are going to lose me right now if you DON'T STOP CRUSHING ME!!!" Stretch managed to thunder underneath all the ectoplasm. Stinkie smiled in glee. "Same old cranky brother of mine!" He declared, finally removing his clinging arms off Stretch's pencil thin neck. Stretch muttered about the pain while massaging his sore neck. However, he soon smirked triumphantly. God, he felt like a born again ghost!

"Well, boys, I think it's time we gave Shadow a little wake up call. And that's that you should never mess with the Ghostly Trio!" With that the reunited brothers hi-fived each other and went in search of Shadow. That is until they ran into Casper. The little tyke looked fraught with fear and worry.

"Guys! Terrible news! Kat's missing!"

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A/N: Oh no, what happened to dear Kat Harvey? Find out in the next chapter.


	11. Kat in Captivity

A/N: So now, you will discover what Shadow has up his sleeves with Kat. Mind you, some scenes might pretty disturbing to read. So for sensitive readers, this may not be your cup of tea.

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Chapter 11

Kat in Captivity

Kat woke up with a terrible ache in her head. She must have been given a good flogging with a lead pipe or a sledgehammer. Never had her head felt so thick or woozy before. The dull ache intensified when she made the mistake of shaking it off. She groaned and was soon conscious of the fact that she was bound tightly to a straight-backed chair. Her arms were wrenched back and tied to the back of the chair. Her legs were separated and each of them was knotted securely to each of the legs of the chairs. Her vision was compromised; an opaque handkerchief covered them, temporarily blinding her. She tried to squeal and moan but a gag easily made that task impossible. She sat there helplessly, completely dizzy and disoriented. What had happened?

All that she could remember was striding down the hallway to her bedroom, totally infuriated with Stretch's wistful and listless behavior and that's when she felt a heavy jar to her skull. The blow had knocked her out successfully. The next thing she heard was a sinister chuckle and through her heavy-lidded eyes, she saw glimmering forest green eyes. She groaned; she knew the owner of those eyes. He had her in his power now. She gulped. Knowing Shadow, he had an arsenal of dirty tricks up his sleeves. Kat tried to block out all those dirty tricks. She struggled in the chair. It was useless; she was stuck like a rat in a too narrow drainpipe. She heard a door swing open on rusty hinges and yet again, the devious laughter. Kat stiffened. What could Shadow want with her in his captivity? As if the idea itself clobbered her on the head, she gasped. He had meant to lure Stretch here!

_I have to escape somehow. Who knows what he'd do to me?_ Kat wondered frantically as she began struggling underneath the inch-thick, scratchy ropes that bound her tight. God, they were boa constrictors, holding her down securely. There was no hope. Shadow circled around her like a lion surveying its trapped prey. He grinned victoriously. Phase 3 was completed. Stretch was fiercely protective of the little girl, he knew. He'd come rushing down here faster than a bullet train. But before his dramatic arrival, Shadow took the opportunity to have a bit of fun with his beautiful captive. And this fun would be something utterly repulsive to Kat. Stopping at her ear, he stooped down to blow lightly into it. Kat shuddered at the ice cold air that pelted her. _Please. You already have tied up. Don't torture me any longer. Just leave me alone. _Her silent pleas went unnoticed. Shadow's menacing smirk grew wider.

"Come now, my pussy cat. I think it's time you and me have a little time to ourselves," He breathed out seductively. With that he gently slipped off Kat blindfold and removed her gag. Kat gulped. She knew she should scream but with Shadow directly opposite her, that would have been a fool's move. Shadow was capable of physically and mentally damaging her. She didn't want any of that. The ghost's smirk widened into a Cheshire cat grin. He was definitely to play a game with his pretty prisoner. Stroking her hair and tucking it behind her ears, he knew his plan. Be gentle at first. Make her come out of her shell. Then, hit her where it hurts. Kat's nerves stood up when he cupped her chin with his frigid hands. He was so cold, so icy. Like his empty heart. He leaned in. Kat drew back. He wanted a kiss. That was something Kat was, in no way, willing to give.

Yet, he came closer. His mesmerizing eyes burrowed deeply within her chocolate brown ones. Unlike Casper's glistening aqua eyes or Stretch's incredibly deep and electrifying violet eyes, Shadow's eyes were so….pretty. They were so foreign to Shadow's pointed persona. They were gentle and wavering like the Caribbean ocean. Kat could nearly see the dolphins swimming in them. God, what was wrong with her?! Shadow was a repulsive, pompous, bad-tempered, sinful, evil, sinister….Her description trailed off when he brushed his cold yet pillowy soft lips against hers. Kat wanted to wretch but it was nearly impossible with somebody kissing you.

And what a kiss! It was silky and delicate like lace. His lips brushed lightly like a gentle touch or sweet greeting. Kat knew she shouldn't be taken in. In a minute, Shadow was going to beat down on her with his lust boiling to fever pitch. Shadow's arms curved around Kat's waist. The kiss was soon deepened. Kat suppressed a gratified moan. The last thing she wanted was to relent to Shadow. That was a sign of weakness. Kat was NOT weak. His slimy tongue soon snaked in and Kat nearly gagged on impact. His tongue explored all new uncharted terrain. It stroked itself harshly against the inner walls of her mouth. His lips pressed harder against hers. His brutality was showing through his gentle façade. His hands gripped her waist tightly before maneuvering their way to her bra clasp. After a while of tussling, he unshackled it with ease. Kat's breath caught in her throat. She was playing with a dangerous flame. Yet, she couldn't help her pleasurable moans. Shadow was pleased with her reaction.

He proceeded to lift up her shirt and slip his roaming hands up it. Kat gasped; he was going all the way with her. His icy, pointy fingers explored every curve and contour. He manipulated, he grasped and he felt. Kat's pleasure went away and was quickly replaced with disgust. How could she allow herself to play the victim? Stretch would be so disappointed. But it was difficult to fight back what with her hands fastened tightly behind her back. However, with all the strength and determination she could muster, she wrenched her head away from Shadow. Wrong move. She had awoken the beast within.

She nearly shrieked with terror when she glimpsed the thinly-veiled, growing rage in Shadow's eyes. The green pigment darkened. His fists clenched. He was angry. And he was rife with desire for no one, except Kat. Kat shrunk back like a child who had been caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar. And Shadow was the furious parent. He was going to punish her. Painfully and slowly.

"Hope you have a knife fetish, my sweetheart. Because I'm just about ready to include one in our foreplay," He chuckled darkly. Kat let out a high-pitched squeal of pure fear. She was going to be scarred. Literally. Shadow picked up a small penknife from a nearby table. He made a show of holding it out to the naked light bulb that dangled above them. The penknife glimmered. He brought it down and ran his finger down the sharp blade. It was razor-sharp and capable of mutilating a person to pieces. He leered at Kat who tried to somehow get away from the maniac. No such luck. Shadow smirked gleefully. "Come, my darling. Drip sweet red blood for me." With that, he drew the blade gently against her throat. Nothing major. Just a scratch. But, there was more to come.

He drew the blade even harder against the vein of her throat. Kat winced. It hurt. With that, he poked the razor sharp blade deep into her vein. A tiny globule of blood spilled out of her throat. Kat gasped with horrible pain. That certainly hurt. A lot. He poked and probed the plump vein. More drops of scarlet liquid leaked out. Kat was falling behind. There was no chance this was going to end well. Soon, she felt him licking the pain and lapping the blood up hungrily.

"Hmm…baby, you taste like milk and honey," He remarked before latching his mouth tightly against her neck again. Kat whimpered not only because of the pain, but the terrible gnawing at her aching heart. It was like a rabid hamster was nibbling her. It was out of lethargy and sorrow. She was also horrendously disappointed with herself for allowing herself to be tortured. God, she needed some closure. She needed a savior.

_Stretch, where are you?! Wherever you are, please save me. I need you now!_

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A/N: Well, there you go. Hope you like it.


	12. History Repeats Itself

A/N: Well, you saw how ravaged Kat was. Now see what Stretch does to find her.

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Chapter 12

History Repeats Itself

"Missing?!! How?! When?! Where?! Who?!!" Stretch was questioning a mile a minute. He still couldn't believe he had forgotten that if he left Kat all alone, Shadow would swoop down and ravage her. Oooh…he could destroy anything within arm's length now. With that, he reached for a rather precious Ming vase and smashed it to the floor. Not caring about the mess, he immediately floated to his room. The other ghosts, all whom wore confused expressions, followed suit. They found Stretch fiddling with the lock of a tackle box. He finally managed to flip the lid open. The other ghosts looked on with amazement. In the tackle box, was some sort of radar and attached to it was a satellite fashioned out of a skinned umbrella. Stretch begins tampering with the dials on the gadget. Stinkie watched over his shoulder with an impressed look on his face.

"Wow, Stretch! Pretty piece of gadgetry. Where'd you get it, EBay?" The smelly ghost was engrossed with how Stretch's long fingers fiddled with the knobs, dials and buttons on the radar device. Stretch shrugged. "Nah, I invented it. I'm starting to see that taking that Wood Work course in High school really paid off." He answered. Soon, after a couple minutes of tireless settings and dial-turning, Stretch found what he was looking for. A single beeping dot was situated in the eastern region of the radar.

"She's somewhere in the East. Come on!" With that, everybody took flight. Casper had a thousand questions to ask his uncle. So, in mid-air, he finally inquired. "Uncle Stretch, how'd you know Kat is there?" Stretch, for once, was happy to field his nephew's question. Now does anyone remember that reed-thin whistle Kat received from Stretch from the 3rd chapter? Well, it also doubles as a tag. So that whenever Shadow got it in his vile, fiendish mind to kidnap Kat (which we all know he will) Stretch can look her up on radar and zero in to save her. Pretty smart of Stretch, huh? So now, following the trusty tracking device, they touch downed outside a long abandoned warehouse.

"You sure this is where she's held captive?" Stinkie asked. The smelly ghost wasn't really depending on Stretch's homemade 'tracking device'. A loud, guttural scream of pain and terror was soon heard throughout the vicinity. "On second thought, don't bother answering." He continued after hearing what definitely was Kat. Stretch immediately led everyone flying through the warehouse. Where was that scream coming from? Stretch could tell it was in the east wing and darted like a heat-seeking missile searching for its target. He had just reached the room when he saw Shadow busily licking a trail of crimson off Kat's neck.

Stretch floated rock still. He willed the image he was seeing right now away. No. No, it can't be happening. Not again! Stretch felt like God had decided to toy with him at that very moment. For in his mind, Stretch could only see himself as a human looking at Shadow, who was also presently human, licking blood of, not Kat, but Angela's neck. Kat was sobbing and pleading just like Angela did. Her eyes bore into Stretch's. She was begging him to stop Shadow. To fling Shadow away and nurse her back to health. Stretch's fists clenched tightly. He regretted not stopping Shadow back then. He wasn't going to regret it now. With a feral roar, Stretch wrestled Shadow away from the weeping, injured girl and knocked the penknife away to a dark corner of the cramped room. Kat's eyes widened with joy at the prospect of her savior.

"Why, Stretch, do you not know that barging in on a rendezvous is of bad taste?" Shadow asked in an unbelievably calm manner. Stretch fumed. How could Shadow be so cool, so collected? Despite the fact that Stretch had ripped him away from the woman he was on the verge of seducing, Shadow simply grinned contentedly. He barred his teeth at the bespectacled ghost. "Don't ever, ever, EVER do that to her again. You had your fun once." He warned. He turned back to Kat and freed her from her constricting bounds. She immediately hugged him in fear. Shadow leered at her, making her superbly uncomfortable.

"Listen, slime ball. I don't at all care what you're playing at now. But, one thing, don't take it out on Kitty Kat," Stretch's tone was venomous. Still, Shadow let it roll over him with ease. "Aw….making up for your past mistake. Real smart. Too bad Angela's not here to appreciate it." Stretch winced at Shadow's cutting remark. He really didn't want to be reminded of his folly with unfortunate Angela. All he did was propel Kat out of that warehouse faster than a jet plane. During the flight home, Kat had to ask.

"What on Earth happened to Angela?" Stretch looked down at her, lying in his arms bridal style. She looked so innocent. And that innocence could've been taken away with a swoop if he wasn't there to save her. "Same thing that happened to you. Only…I wasn't there to stop it." Kat laid in his arms in compassionate silence. She hoped this wouldn't frazzle him back into his depression. However, looking into his stunningly deep violet eyes, she could see newfound determination. She was glad.

_I'll take care of you, Kat. He's never going to do that again on my watch. I will never, ever let history repeat itself again. Ever,_

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A/N: Well, there you go. Read and review.


	13. Promises Made with Love

A/N: Well, this chapter's going to entail tons of Kat/Stretch interaction.

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Chapter 13

Promises Made with Love

"Nothing really major. Just a cut on your neck that we can easily bandage. A bruise here and there. Nothing antiseptic and band aids can't cure," Stretch muttered as he examined Kat's inflicted wounds. The cut in her neck had finally stopped bleeding after he brushed on a layer of antiseptic on. Yanking out a cotton bandage wrap out of a Red Cross first aid kit, Stretch gently and slowly attached it onto her cut with some band aids. The end result was what looked to be a white square growth jutting out of Kat's neck. Kat fingered her freshly-bandaged wound. She winced. Would it have resulted in a major tragedy if Stretch didn't come? She pondered this question as he caressed the black bruises and minor scratches on her wrists with his cold fingers. It was strangely soothing. Coming from Stretch, this nurturing was very….overwhelming. It has always been imprinted in Kat's mind that Stretch was ruthlessly shallow and violent. It seemed she had judged the book by its cover wrongly.

Stretch intently applied band aids on her injuries. In his mind, Angela was smiling down on him. He was making good his past mistake. He was going to make sure Kat healed properly and quickly. He was never going to let his guard down ever again. She was safe with him. Kat was watching him like an engrossed child reading an adventure story. She searched his violet eyes for a hint….of kindness? Compassion? Determination? Love? Wait, what? Love?!! That was stupid. Stretch would never think of her in that way. To him, she was some mindless, whiny, immature and cowardly bone bag.

_Then why is he showering you with all this attention now? _A bright, spritely voice piped up in her mind. Was it her heart talking?

_He's just being nice._ Kat couldn't accept the fact. Yet, it was right there. In her face.

_Oh come on._ _He's totally smitten. No guy would want to play 'knight in shining armor' unless they love the damsel in distress. Which is obviously you. _Yeah right. Kat snorted silently. However, as her chocolate pupils swept over Stretch's semi-transparent lanky form. He looked so calm. Like he was in the attic sorting his beautiful drawings. Kat liked this. She was so used to his brash and brutal side that seeing him gentle and collected was utterly refreshing. However, she really did miss take-charge, gritty Stretch. But for now, this Stretch was perfect enough. Stretch soon finished handling her injuries and shut the first aid kit.

"Well, you seem better," he commented as he picked a bowl of mushroom soup he had Casper prepare. "Now open up." He spoon fed her like she was an adorable toddler. Kat's smile reached to new heights. She had never been spoon fed for a long time. She felt like Cleopatra! Stretch let a small grin slip out at her happiness. She looked so docile. So innocent. So pretty. And to think throughout her teen years he had mistreated her horribly. Now, he was going to make it up to her. He put down the bowl and took a minute to look deep into her eyes.

_Like chocolate buttons_. He thought as he absent-mindedly tucked a loose strand of brunette hair behind her ear. Kat inwardly gasped. His hand was cold but somehow inviting. His touch was light yet very intimate. Kat was bowled over by the sheer madness of this moment. She always spent these times with Casper. But Stretch? Not even once. Now it was happening. And…she enjoyed it. When Stretch finally pulled away, she let out a wistful sigh. She longed for more physical contact. To have his hands touching hers. To have those violet eyes explore her brown ones. This new euphoric feeling washed over her. Could it happen so suddenly? Stretch noted her intent gaze at him. It was unsettling.

"What'sa matter? I got something on my face or something?" He asked self-consciously. Kat giggled; it was so cute to see mellow Stretch get so discombobulated. She laid her hand on his and her eyes burrowed deeply into his. Then, to his and her own utter amazement, she pulled him into a tight embrace. Stretch, however, did reciprocate. He held on tightly. Her hair brushed against his nose and he caught a whiff of honeysuckle and daisy. She smelled so sweet and light. Just like her. Kat was surprised. For a guy who spurns any form of affection given by 'fleshies', he seemed to enjoy it as much as she did. Kat could just imagine Stretch as a human.

She could feel his warm, strong arms around her. His dark chocolate brown hair brushing against his eyebrows. His gorgeous eyes penetrating deeply into hers. His heart beating against her hers. But the image immediately washed away when he floated up to leave. "Stay," It wasn't a question; more like a plea for attention. Stretch watched her regretfully. He mustn't allow himself to fall for her. Shadow might use her as his weakness again. So from now on, any closeness or physical touch was completely off-limits. Giving her the last goodnight kiss he would ever give her, he whispered.

"Get some rest. You need it," With that he left. Kat buried herself in the soft cotton sheets of her bed. Lying on her pillow, she finally managed to drift off to sleep. And all she could think and dream of was her savior. Her hero

Stretch.


	14. Sweet Nightmares

A/N: Well, this one's going to be a song chapter. The song is 'Crush' by David Archuleta. So, the song obviously does not belong to me. Enjoy!

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Chapter 14

Sweet Nightmares

Kat tussled and turned in her sheets. Strangely, she couldn't get comfortable. The air was hot and unbearable. Her silk nightgown felt constricting. Her throat was all choked up. Sweat poured out from her forehead and underarms. Shadow had really emotionally scarred her. Stretch may have nursed her wounds but he could never cure her trauma of being held hostage by a psychopath. Finally, she simply flung her sheets onto the floor. She thrust her head back onto her pillow which to her, felt rock solid. She seriously needed to get some sleep. But, she simply couldn't. The day's events were swimming through her mind. The kidnapping…the torture….the valiant rescue….Stretch's compassionate nursing….Stretch being so loving…..Stretch being so nice. Ok, she had to stop this stupid obsession with Stretch.

_He's never going to fall for you. So, stop kidding yourself. _The epiphany hurt like a knife to her artery. But it was the truth. Stretch would never love her. Not in the way she wanted him to. He would never arrive on a beautiful white stallion and ride her off into the magnificent sunset. He wouldn't be Romeo and rescue her as Juliet from eternal loneliness. But she could still dream. There was absolutely no real problem with indulging in a few fantasies. So lying back down on her soft pillow, she allowed herself to dream about Stretch. She could outline every tiny detail of him.

The deep, radiant violet eyes.

The proud, hawk-like nose.

The high, chiseled cheekbones.

The self-confident, bad boy smirk.

The tall, lanky yet strong physique.

The large, gentle hands.

And of course the little dimples in his cheeks and chin.

Kat drowsed in blissful slumber.

_In Kat's Dream…_

_I found myself in a pristine green meadow. Lilacs and clover bloomed everywhere. What a lovely scene, I thought happily to myself. I am surprised and unduly embarrassed at my choice of clothing. I am wearing a silk nightgown with lace trimming on the thin straps and hem. There's pearl detailing on my chest and a bow in my hair. I am somehow filled with a peace I have never known. A horse neighs in the distance._

_And that's when he arrives. A handsome, noble farmhand on McFadden ranch._

_He's absolutely gorgeous. His luscious chocolate hair is parted in the centre in two heavy bangs that fall into his eyes. His skin is a manly golden tan. His cheekbones are sky-scraping. His nose is proud and very sharp. His smile melts my heart when it is directed at me. His tall, thin yet muscled body is accommodated to hard work and weight-lifting. His hands…so gentle. Not a callous in sight on those beautiful hands. His sense of style is admirable. He is wearing a white cotton fitted shirt with a couple of buttons unfastened at the top. It reveals a chiseled chest with a slight powdering of coarse chest hair. His black skinny jeans cling to him in all the right places. His hard won cowboy boots and rope necklace complete the rugged, manly look. But what really bowled me over were his eyes._

_They were incredibly electrifying. They were radiant; I found myself caught in their tender traps. The twin violets on his face envelope me in their petals. They stroke me gently and I am in complete bliss. I approach him shyly. He smile widens. He hands me a beautiful red rose which I accept with gratitude and flushed cheeks. Soon, he removes a guitar from a case at my feet and begins strumming it. I could barely wait to be serenaded. His magical voice is soon heard by my fortunate ears._

'_Crush'_

_I hung up the phone tonight  
Something happened for the first time  
Deep inside  
It was a rush  
What a rush  
'Cause the possibility  
That you would ever feel the same way  
About me  
It's just too much  
Just too much_

Why do I keep running from the truth  
All I ever think about is you  
You got me hypnotized  
So mesmerized  
And I've just got to know

_[chorus:] __  
Do you ever think  
When you're all alone  
All that we could be?  
Where this thing could go?  
Am I crazy or falling in love?  
Is it really just another crush?  
Do you catch a breath  
when I look at you?  
Are you holding back  
like the way I do?  
'Cause I'm trying, trying to walk away  
But I know this crush ain't going  
Away  
Going away_

Has it ever crossed your mind  
When we're hanging,  
Spending time, girl, are we just friends  
Is there more  
Is there more  
See it's a chance we've gotta take  
'Cause I believe that we can make this  
Into something that'll last  
Last forever  
Forever

_[chorus]___

Why do I keep running from the truth  
(Why do I keep running)  
All I ever think about is you  
(All I ever think about)  
You got me hypnotized  
(Hypnotized)  
So mesmerized  
(mesmerized)  
And I've just got to know

_[chorus]___

Going away  
Going away

_His spell worked; I am vastly charmed. He sweeps me up into his arms and whispers lovingly into my ear. "Kitty Kat, you're so beautiful. I…love you so much." I can't believe he actually said it! I am ecstatic. I am so happy. My heart is singing with joy. He bends down to kiss me. I accept gleefully and willingly. His mouth is pure heaven. His lips soft, dry yet irresistibly kissable. His warm tongue caresses against mine. Nothing would give such joy compared to this. Nothing. His hands gently slipped around my waist. His warm, masculine body pressed tightly to mine. It may be considered a sin to be pleasured so greatly, so perfectly. But, I was not at all regretful. Alas, all good things must come to an end._

"_Well, well, well, what do we have here?" A snarky, venomous voice muttered. Bile rose up into my throat, creating a sour taste in my mouth. I cringed inwardly. My knees weakened. No, not him. Never him. Please. But it was. Shadow McFadden. He was the exact replica of his brother. But, he wore black-rimmed glasses, had the menacing green eyes of a viper and his smirk was more of carnage that carnality. I hated, loathed, despised and detested that man. He who stole the virtue of Stretch's old girlfriend. He who killed his beloved younger brother. And he who will do the same to me as he had done to Angela. I stood rock still, paralyzed. Stretch, however, approached Shadow with a stone-withering glare. _

"_What do you want, bastard?" He had let his tongue off of its leash now. Shadow darted a glance at me while licking his lips hungrily. I snorted with disgust._

"_Isn't it obvious?" He answered back nonchalantly. Stretch was boiling. With that he got right up into Shadow's face and breathed dangerously. "Well, you ain't going to get what you want, asshole." With that he took my arm and led me away from the scheming fiend that is Shadow. Little did we know that Shadow extracted a shiny pistol from his jeans pocket. _

"_Oh, but I always get what I want." I heard him mutter in that sinister voice. And then, eardrum-shattering gunfire. Stretch staggered back and forth. A piercing scream erupted from my lips. A bullet-sized hole was created in his back. Blood leaked out of the deep wound. I was devastated. Stretch soon fell to his knees and finally his face hit the gritty plain. I turned around and cussed Shadow's name to the bowels of Hell. And all he did was laugh maniacally and victoriously. What kind of brother was he? He grasped my hand and looked me dead in the eye. _

"_Your mine now, bitch. And you shall always be." And that's when I shrieked. No, Stretch couldn't die on me. _

_He just couldn't. That's when Shadow shook me violently. _

"_Wake up!" He shouted. "Wake up, Kit Kat. Are you okay?"_

_End Dream…_

Kat woke up with a start. She soon discovered that it was Stretch shaking her awake. He had heard her shouting his name fearfully. Kat immediately launched herself into his arms. "Oh, Stretch. I don't want Shadow to hurt you because of me." Stretch was touched by her compassion. He embraced as lovingly as a compassionate person could.

"Don't worry, Kitty Kat. He could never hurt me. Never." Unbeknownst to the hugging couple, Shadow was roving mad in his bedroom, plotting the assassination of Whipstaff and its inhabitants. He was bellowing directives into his glasses cum microphone.

"The straw that broke the camel's back was his rescue of Kat, Hunts. It's about time we bring out the big guns and take him down a peg or two. Soon, Kat shall be my Queen and I will rule Whipstaff with an iron fist!" Yet again, Shadow ended his delusional ranting with a loud, maniacal laugh.

Things were going from bad to worse.

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A/N: Next chapter will probably take awhile. However, hope you review this one.


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